I perch on the fence, a-watching you yonder,

Tasting again the shy charm of your smile.

Mem’ries forsaken arise while I ponder

—The myst’ry of your e’er-enchanting guile.

Chivalry is yours, too great to measure,

You’re my inducement, my musical stave,

How lends me your gait such thriving pleasure?

Your voice, your stance to be mine own I crave.

Shrills your whistle and I will come thither.

Your grace seems golden, a clement relish:

Yet flow’rs strewn at my feet; soon they wither.

Oh, this forsaken bondage is hellish!

You make me feel bold; you make me feel mere;

But wily are you, you cavalier.

The End

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